Alpha’s Claim (Bad Boy Bears #1)

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

P aloma

I wake in bed with my Viking.

I fell back to sleep after the loud motorcycle woke me up on the road. Darius told me we were almost there, and he’d wake me when we arrived, but I guess he’s a liar. He must’ve carried me inside without me waking, which is crazy. Either the medicine made me extra drowsy, or I trust this guy completely. Plus, I’m heavy–as Thom always points out.

I sit up now and look around. I’m under the covers, but Darius lies on top of them, still fully dressed, as if he fell asleep while on guard. The ‘safehouse’ is not the barricaded basement bunker I imagined. Instead, it’s a luxurious beach house. Light streams in through the windows of the bedroom we’re in, which look out on the ocean.

I slip out from under the covers, careful not to wake Darius, and investigate. I discover we’re in a gorgeous three-bedroom luxury vacation home. I use one of the bathrooms and wash my face. In a basket under the sink, I find the emergency toiletries one might need–unopened travel toothbrushes and toothpastes, mini bottles of mouthwash, individually wrapped combs. Even sunscreen and lip balm. I brush my teeth, comb my hair, and put on some lip balm.

Then I investigate the kitchen. The cupboards are stocked with canned goods. We won’t starve here.

There’s a fancy Nespresso machine that takes me a while to figure out, but when I do, produces an incredible cup of coffee. I open a shelf-stable box of whipping cream to pour in and turn it blond.

“Paloma?” Darius calls from the bedroom, a sharp note of panic in his voice.

“I’m in here,” I call back. I put a second pod in the machine and set a mug underneath to make him a cup.

He emerges from the bedroom. He’s in his bare feet, but still wearing his rumpled tuxedo shirt and pants from last night. The bowtie is gone, and the black shirt is open at the throat, revealing a patch of golden curls above the neckline of his undershirt.

He rubs his jaw. I swear to God, he went from a closely shorn beard last night to almost full-on beard and mustache today, and his hair seems to be longer, too. But that’s impossible. I must be confused.

“I can’t believe I didn’t hear you get up.”

I’d forgotten how deep his voice is. How much I enjoy the gravelly rumble of it.

“I’m sure you were tired. What time did we get here?”

“Close to five a.m. But I don’t usually sleep heavily.” His gaze at me is both sleepy and speculative. “I must trust you.”

His words startle me. “That’s weird,” I mutter.

“What?”

“Just–I had the same thought when I woke up.” I shove my hair back from my face. “It’s strange I didn’t wake up when we got here.”

“Mmm,” he rumbles.

The Nespresso machine finishes, and I take the filled mug and hold it out to him. “Cream?”

“Thank you, princess.” He reaches out, and I find myself marveling at how sexy the watch on his wrist looks. Not because it’s some expensive designer piece–which it is–but because his wrist and forearm are things of beauty. The wide bone of his wrist is probably twice the diameter of mine, and the golden hair on his thick muscled forearm make the perfect backdrop to the Rolex, or whatever it is.

But then, everything about this giant is deeply attractive to me.

His fingers close around the mug, brushing mine. Flutters go off in my belly at the touch. “Yes, please, to the cream.”

That rumbling voice! It stirs my insides even more.

I add cream from the little box to his mug while he watches me appreciatively.

There’s no cunning or conniving in his gaze. It doesn’t slice and dice me the way Thom’s does. This man has a presence that seems to hold me. My body can relax around him, as if it knows I’m safe. I don’t have to stay vigilant.

Which is false.

I’m not safe. And while I don’t believe Darius would hurt me, we are in terrible danger.

Darius takes a sip of his coffee, watching me over the top of his mug.

The memory of the things he said to me last night come flooding back. Good Girl. Get that pussy nice and wet for me while you think about what your Viking is going to do to you.

Oh, Darius .

I can’t stay here with him; nor can I let him get killed because of me. My best plan is to get out of here, away from him, and contact Thom. I can try to explain away Darius’ behavior. He was drunk. Partying out on the lawn. He thought it would be funny to climb up and carry me off, and was too inebriated to understand that I didn’t want him to take me.

Gah. Thom probably won’t buy it. Maybe I’ll make a deal on the phone with my foster father–I come back, and he leaves Wren and Darius alone.

Something like that.

All I know is that I have to get myself out of this beautiful, safe haven soon.

But before I do, I’m having hot, Viking sex. This may be my only chance to get something I want in life.

“Well, Viking?” I challenge him. “Is this your keep?”

His warm, steady gaze turns smoldering. His lips curve into a slow smile. “It is. For now.” He doesn’t take his eyes from mine.

“And what would you do if your princess tried to run?”

He doesn’t move. He just takes another sip of coffee and watches me.

The anticipation of his reaction turns me into a live wire.

“There would be consequences, of course.”

A tremor of excitement starts up behind my knees. The flesh between my legs lifts and squeezes. Without breaking eye contact, I slowly slide my coffee mug onto the counter.

Then, I take off running. I make it to the glass sliding doors and waste a few precious seconds figuring out how to get it unlocked. The glass on the doors seems extra-thick. Like maybe it’s bullet-proof .

I throw the door open and realize Darius hasn’t moved yet.

Is he going to chase me?

He’d better not ruin this for me.

“Run, princess.” His murmur is a low rumble.

I take off sprinting across the deck and down the stairs to the sand below. I run for the water, where the wet sand will be better packed and easier to run on. Once there, I run as fast as I can.

It doesn’t matter because when I look over my shoulder, Darius is right behind me, almost like he’s holding back even after giving me a head start.

I shriek in surprise.

He lunges forward and catches me around my waist. “Bad princess,” he murmurs in my ear as he spins me around. I cling to his muscled forearms. The gorgeous, corded tree trunks. “Now, I’m going to have to punish you.” There’s laughter in his voice.

My feet touch back onto the ground, and he slides his hand from my waist down between my legs. I gasp at the shock of contact. The firm touch of his fingers molding around my mons. At the same time, his other hand cups my breast, squeezing it. I lean my head back against his muscled chest as a riot of sensation rips through my body. His thumb rubs over my nipple. His fingers between my legs undulate with a rolling pressure.

Then, he throws me to my back, but I’m cradled so well in his strong arms that I feel nothing of a bump, I’m only surprised to find myself in the sand.

Just like my fantasy!

There’s no slow seduction. He plays the part of the wild Viking perfectly. He yanks the satin crotch of my pajama shorts to the side and covers my entire pussy with his open mouth.

I cry out in shock and surprise. But mostly pleasure because his tongue is already moving there, delving between my folds. He penetrates me with his tongue, lashes me with it. He sucks on my lips. The hair of his overnight stubble create an added layer of sensation.

I’m lost. I’m in the throes of it immediately. My hands go to his hair—that thick golden mane—and I tug on it to urge him on.

Not that he requires urging.

The Viking knows what he’s doing. His hand roams up beneath my cami to massage my breast and then pinch a nipple, all the while his masterful tongue teaches me that promised lesson for my disobedience.

It’s a good one.

I arch up on the sand and moan my pleasure.

He pushes up on one hand to look down at my face as his fingers return to stroking my pussy. He presses one finger inside me—or at least he attempts to, but it’s too thick. I noticed in the car that his digits are probably the size of a normal man’s cock. He meets my natural resistance and eases back, then switches to a smaller finger—his pinky perhaps.

I’m out of breath with excitement.

He screws the finger inside me and pumps it slowly, all the while watching my face, perhaps for signs of discomfort. There is none.

Only pleasure.

I’m being ravished on the beach by a Viking. It’s perfection.

He pumps a little faster, pinching my nipple roughly. Then he claims my mouth .

It’s a savage kiss. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and I taste my own essence on it.

My legs thrash around him on the sand. I wrap a hand behind his head to encourage more kissing, but he breaks it and lowers his mouth to my sex again. With his pinky still pumping in and out of me, he finds my clit with his tongue.

I shriek as pleasure explodes all around me. I come, my muscles squeezing around his finger, my back arching in the sand, my inner thighs shivering and shaking around his broad shoulders.

It doesn’t last long enough, though. I still want more. I want the whole thing. I want his member between my legs.

When it passes and I open my eyes, Darius shakes his head with mock sternness. “That’s the second time you’ve come without permission, princess.”

I lie back in the sand, boneless and soaring from the experience.

The Vikings eyes glint amber in the sunlight.

“Now it’s time for your punishment.”

Darius

I stand and take Paloma’s hand, drawing her straight from her back to my shoulder, so I can carry her like a war prize back to the castle.

My bear is riled up, which made it difficult to hold back once I had her taste on my tongue, but I didn’t claim her.

I hope I wasn’t too rough. Too un-nuanced. But if I was, it goes with the Viking fantasy.

As I carry her back to the safe house, with a taste of her still on my tongue, my bear roars in a victory dance. Nothing has ever felt so right as this moment. As claiming Paloma. But no– I’m not going to claim her, I firmly remind myself and my bear.

I’m just going to fulfill her fantasy.

And what a fucking privilege. It’s an honor I take extremely seriously.

And claim her, my bear insists.

No claiming . I slam the hatch down on him as I have a million times before. Stay. In. You may not come out now. Not ever with Paloma.

Claim. Her.

He is too soothed by her scent engulfing my head to put any teeth behind his demand.

I ignore him, thinking instead of all the wonderful dirty things I’m going to do to Paloma.

I brush the sand off the backs of her legs as I walk, and give her ass a light slap. She kicks her legs, but the scent of her arousal grows stronger.

“Princess, you belong to me now. That means your body belongs to me. Your orgasms belong to me. You will bend to my will or suffer the consequences.”

I’m riffing on her Viking story. I don’t know exactly what she has in mind, but I’m guessing it has to do with domination. Perhaps with not being held responsible for her sexual appetite. If she’s tied up and forced, it can’t be her fault. She’ll still be a good girl. Perhaps these fantasies are the way her mind coped with her actual imprisonment. A way to reclaim the terror of having no control by making it sexy.

I need to get this right for her. I know she’s turned on by the punishment idea–I can tell by the way her thighs squeeze together every time I mention it. I’ll give her a light spanking and see how she reacts to it.

When I get back to the safe house, I use the keypad to enter with the code that Sully texted me. The place is pimped out with every luxury a millionaire could desire. This is probably Blackthroat’s version of roughing it. Paloma and I will have no trouble holding up here while I figure out how to get her completely free of her evil foster father.

I open the sliding glass door and step inside then tip my captive down in front of the sofa.

“Now, for your punishment.“ I whip the tiny spaghetti strap top off from over her head. I thought about ordering her to strip, but I’m assuming she doesn’t want to voluntarily submit to me. She wants to be forced. She wants me to make it so she has no seeming choice in the matter.

“You were naughty this morning, princess.” I hook my thumbs in the waistband of the silky shorts and yank them down below her ass, then give her round cheek one hard slap.

“Oh.” She darts a look at me. Her eyes are wide, but her pupils are still dilated. There’s no sign of fear.

I sit on the couch and tug her across my knees. Damn, if the scent of her honey doesn’t grow even stronger. I lay my large palm on her ass, squeezing, but not moving it. Just letting her get used to the idea of her predicament. And always, waiting for her unspoken consent.

“I am the master of this keep,” I tell her firmly. “And you will obey.”

“I love that you know the word keep ,” Paloma mumbles an aside with amusement in her voice.

I can’t stop the chuckle that rumbles in my chest, but I give her ass a slap to cover my break in character.

She moans softly. I tug her shorts down the rest of the way, so she can kick them off and spread her legs. When I slide my middle finger between her thighs, her honey is thick.

My cock presses painfully against the zipper of my tuxedo pants. “Looks like you did a good job of getting this pussy ready for me,“ I say.

“Mmm,” she agrees.

“I’m still going to have to warm your ass. I mean arse . –Would it be arse?” I wonder aloud.

“Definitely arse ,” Paloma agrees with a breathy laugh.

I slap her ass a little harder this time. “You won’t be laughing for long, my lady.”

Her back tenses, so I rub a slow circle around her ass until the muscles relax again. I stroke between her legs with a long slow drag. “By the time I’m through, you’ll be thoroughly ready to take my big Viking cock.” I tuck the tip of my thick middle finger in her entrance, stretching her open.

She moans again, hollowing her lower back and lifting her ass in the air for more.

My middle finger slides in to the first knuckle. “Good girl,” I praise.

“I thought I was a bad girl.”

“Oh, you do want that spanking, don’t you?”

I ease my finger out and give her what she needs, starting a steady rhythm of firm spanks that alternate right and left cheeks, concentrating them on the lower half of her ass where she sits.

“Oh! Ow!” One of her hands flies back to cover her ass, and I let her stop me. I rest my hand over hers and squeeze.

“Mmm,” she moans wantonly.

“Are you going to run away again, Princess?” I’m thinking she’s had enough of spanking, but she answers petulantly, “Yes.”

I laugh, my fingers sliding between her legs again. “Then I will have to give you a proper Viking fucking.” My middle finger slides inside her more easily now. Her body’s readying to take me. I’m able to get it into the second knuckle then all the way in.

Paloma moans.

I pump it inside her, then slip my finger out and spread the moisture to her clit. She wriggles over my lap, her reddened plump ass making an incredible spectacle.

Claim. Her.

My bear is crazy. He’s been locked up for too long. Not only do I never let him out, but I haven’t had sex with enough females in recent years. Now that I have a beautiful one naked and over my lap, he wants me to mark her.

I gather more moisture at her entrance with my fingertips and rub some of it over her back hole. She squeezes her cheeks together to keep me out. “A proper Viking fucking means you taking me in every hole.” I give her right buttcheek a slap. “In your pussy–does a Viking say pussy?--in your lady flower.”

Paloma laughs. “My quim.”

“Oh yes, that’s what I want to fuck. This juicy pink quim.” I stroke along her soaking slit in appreciation. Then I give her other cheek a slap. “Also this plump, perfect ass–I mean arse.”

She squeezes her cheeks together again.

I don’t really have any intention of taking her anal virginity this morning, too, but I’m improvising, and that’s what came out, so I run with it.

“What’s the third hole?” she asks.

I give her another spank. “So innocent, my lovely dove. Your mouth.” I spank her again, several times, thoroughly warming her skin to a rosy glow. Then I reward her for taking it with another caress between her legs. “Your mouth is the third hole. I might start there.”

Again, I’m not serious. There’s no way I would feed my cock into the mouth of a virgin who’s been locked up in a tower and likely has never even kissed a man. It might terrify her.

I’m able to get my middle finger inside her easily now, and I pump it in and out, which seems to drive her wild. She moans and rocks her pelvis over my lap, making my stiff cock leak pre-cum on my boxers.

“Okay, princess.” I pull my finger out and give her ass one last slap. “It’s time for the Viking to have his way with you.”

I stand, scooping and rolling her up into my arms. I carry her back to the bedroom where I had the pleasure of guarding her this morning.

I toss her in the center of the bed and pull my discarded bowtie from the pocket of my tuxedo pants.

Her dark locks fall across her shoulders. Her face is flushed, eyes glassy from her spanking. Those full lips look so damn kissable.

She scoots back on the bed like she means to run again. I can tell it’s just for play, by the mischievous twist to her lips.

I tug both ends of the bow tie and make it snap. The moment she tries to bolt over the edge of the bed, I reach out and grab her ankle, dragging her back. “Where do you think you’re going, my pretty dove?”

I catch her wrists and tie them together with my bow tie.

She studies me in that intelligent way she has. ”How do you know my name means dove ? Do you speak Spanish? ”

I nod. “Not well. But I have a passing knowledge of a dozen languages.“

Her brows pop.

“Viking is one of them.” I wink.

She laughs, as I hoped she would. Obviously, I know it’s Norse.

I unbutton my tuxedo shirt. It was already open at the throat and halfway untucked from my pants, rumpled from our quick escape and being slept in. Paloma sits up on the bed and watches.

She rubs her lips together when my undershirt comes off, eyeing my hairy chest. I unbutton the tuxedo pants and slide them off with my silk boxers. My cock springs out, standing at attention. Ready for action. It’s been low-level throbbing ever since she touched it through my pants last night. Right now it’s so hard, I fear it could break off.

Paloma’s gaze drops to it, and while her eyes widen again, she doesn’t seem daunted. Of course, she doesn’t know what she doesn’t know.

I climb on the bed and catch her bound wrists. I lift them over her head, then use them to slowly lever her onto her back. With her wrists pinned above her head, I hold her down and give her a long, slow kiss.

“Mmm.” She squirms beneath me.

Her body is soft and lush. I adore her curves. That there’s enough meat on her bones to fill my hands.

I cup her breast and squeeze. I lower my mouth to one of her nipples and roll my tongue over it, then suck hard. I let my teeth scrape the skin as I release and move to the other one.

Claim her.

My bear clamors for my attention, but I have none to spare for his demands. It’s Paloma’s beautiful body that occupies all of my focus.

I travel south, pushing her knees up and spreading them wide, so I can lick into her soft sex. She’s still dripping wet from her spanking and the taste of her honey nearly makes me shift into bear form right there.

No . I’m even more savage in keeping him down. I blink hard to change my eyes back to normal.

Not. Normal , my bear snarls.

I slam the door on his cage as I learned to do when I first moved to Manhattan. I suppress him, cram him into a tight little box way down below my belly where he can’t get out.

I need to be able to focus on Paloma. She has a fantasy she wants fulfilled, and I intend to make it perfect for her.

I slide my tongue between her labia, tracing around her inner lips and swirling over her clit. It’s work, but I manage to get my thumb inside her this time while I suck her clit.

She pants and struggles to accommodate me. I don’t feel any resistance, though. No cherry to pop. She’s just tight.

“You gonna take my big Viking cock, little dove?” Gone is the Wall Street hedge fund manager. He’s been replaced by the rough, wild bear man from New Mexico. But I’m supposed to be a Viking, not a bear.

Never a bear. I can’t regress to those days when my bear had more control than I did.

“No.” Paloma shakes her head, and for a moment, I think she means it, but then I realize she’s still playing the game where I hold her down and make her take it. Where I force her to do something the innocent maiden would never do of her own volition.

I can tell because she overacts. She shakes her head violently and pushes back at me with her bound wrists at the same time her knees try to drive me forward .

“Your safe word is Bad bear ,” I tell her before I have a chance to censor my words. I never give out any personal details about myself. Especially not the name of the mountain where I come from or the animal that is my true nature.

But Paloma’s different.

Mate, my bear insists.

She gives me a quick nod, confirming my belief that it wasn’t a real no.

I push her knees wider to kneel between them and grab a pillow to shove under her hips.

“This is so I can take you deep and hard,” I warn her.

“I’ll never submit!” she cries, like the captured princess she pretends to be.

I arch a stern brow. “Oh, you’ll submit, my lovely stolen bride. You’ll submit every night until I fill your womb with my giant Viking baby.”

Paloma laughs breathily. The weight of her tits makes them fall open to the sides. I want to worship her body for the rest of my life.

I lightly slap the side of one of her breasts—not enough to hurt, just enough to surprise her. Her eyes fly to my face and stay glued there, as if she’s watching me to see what I will do next.

I review my words, and realize I don’t actually want to put a big Viking baby inside her. Or rather I do, but she might not want that.

I point a finger at her. “Do not move, princess.” I climb off the bed to grab a condom from my wallet.

She makes a break for it, rolling off the bed on the opposite side.

I flash a wicked smile as I step to the foot of the bed to block her exit. “You’re cornered, princess. ”

She throws herself on the bed and log rolls across it. I have to hand it to her, she’s clever, brave, and agile.

It’s hard to imagine how Thompson could’ve kept her prisoner all these years. I find it odd that a woman as bright, stubborn, and bold as she is wouldn’t have found a way out of his clutches before now.

But she won’t escape me. I’m a bear. People think we’re slow and lumbering, but we pack so much power behind every movement that we can travel great distances in a flash. In one step, I arrive at the side of the bed and catch her as she rolls off.

She gasps in my arms, staring up at me with those big brown eyes.

I have to fight the twitching of my lips as I pretend to frown at her. “Now you earned another spanking, princess.”

I toss her back on the bed and roll her to her belly, the pillow perfectly placed under her hips to lift her ass for me.

I give it a few slaps, and she shrieks. I stop and rub away the sting. “Was that what you were looking for, highness?” I squeeze her ass, kneading the soft pillows of her cheeks before delivering three more slaps. “Did you need to feel my hand across your arse?”

“No,” she warbles.

“Liar.” I roll her over and slide my thumb along her slit, making sure she’s still slick and ready for me. My dick aches. I want to bury myself in her perfect pussy.

But this is her first time, and I have to go slow.

“Now I’m going to claim you,” I say. We both know I’m playacting. But, damn, if those words don’t sound just right.

She shudders at my touch.

I rip open the condom wrapper and roll it on. “I’m going to make it good for you, princess. Just let yourself go and let me take control.”

Paloma

Darius looms over me, his powerful muscles flexing as he braces one hand on the bed.

He’s touching me, and I never would’ve thought his blunt fingers could be so gentle. He parts my folds like he’s thumbing open the petals of a flower. He’s made me come twice, so I know what he’s doing.

I lift my bound wrists, and he catches the tie, pinning it to the bed. His quick movement and casual domination combined with the feeling of being restrained makes heat burst between my legs.

“Oh, you like that,” he murmurs. He’s teasing my entrance with a slow, circling finger.

“How do you know?”

“You just got wetter.” He dips a finger inside me, and adds a second, watching my face. There’s an uncomfortable twinge followed by another surge of heat as my body adjusts to the intrusion.

Then he hooks a finger around and rubs my inner wall. My face flushes, and my lips part. My hips rise off the bed as he strokes me in a come-hither motion.

“That’s it, princess.” He releases my wrist to add another finger. I feel myself squeezing around him. Something’s building deep inside me. I have the feeling I’m headed to the tipping point, but I need more stimulation to get there.

“More,” I tell him. “I need more.”

“Like this?” He adds another finger, and I want to rock forward, pushing them deeper in me.

“It’s not enough.”

He pulls out his fingers, and I hum my disapproval. He shows me the glistening digits, then wraps them around his sheathed cock. “Then you’re ready for me.”

He moves closer, covering me with his body. The wall of muscle fills my vision. I stare at his elegant collarbone, and down to the thick root of his cock. It’s huge, long, and thick, nestled in crisp golden hairs. He fists it and rubs the head against me. It’s hot and wet, and I know it will be so satisfying.

“Come on,” I jerk upwards, and he catches my wrists again.

“Slowly, little dove.” My pulse hammers in his hold.

The wide head of his cock pushes against my tight hole, and I suck in a breath at the stretch. I’m not fighting to get more of him inside me, not yet.

Then he does something I don’t expect. He dips his head and catches the nape of my neck between his teeth. He kisses the skin there, his rough beard tickling me. I shiver, and he licks over my pulse. That, combined with his thick member penetrating me, is enough to make the volcano inside me start to blow.

“Oh God,” I pant. My chest heaves, my nipples get tight and itchy. I arch upwards and rub my breasts against his chest. His coarse hair scratches my tender nipples, and the stimulation adds to the building tension inside me. My whole body starts vibrating, shuddering out of control.

He slides forward, my silky fluids easing his way. It hurts so good. My legs tremble, and I lock them around his powerful hips, urging him forward.

He braces himself over me, every muscle standing out in stark relief. His jaw is rigid, like he’s gritting his teeth and forcing himself to conquer me slowly. A red flush creeps over the crests of his cheeks. Under his surly blond brows, his eyes flash amber. He’s the most breathtakingly beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

I glance down. His cock is only halfway inside me. I dig my heels into the dents above his firm buttocks. He slides his hands under my ass, palming the punished skin. He’s careful, but the rough calluses on his fingers catch a sore spot. The pain pushes me over the edge.

My orgasm explodes out of me. I come, shaking, and my inner muscles ripple along his shaft. My body clamps down tight, like it wants his cock to become a part of me.

He growls, and the sound rumbles through me, triggering aftershocks. I gasp, trying to catch my breath, when he slides all the way in. I surge to new heights, my climax going on and on.

He dips his head and kisses me. His firm lips move over mine, conquering, dominating. I moan, and he sweeps his tongue into my mouth, thrusting in time with his cock. The rhythm makes delicious tension coil in my belly once more.

“You feel so good, princess,” he murmurs against my mouth. I sigh, and he nips at my lips. “You were made to take my cock.”

Oh, my God. Am I coming again? I don’t think I’ve stopped.

He’s buried deep, pumping into me slowly. I move with him, letting my body stretch, so he can settle flush against my thighs. I never knew I could let someone in like this. I never knew it would feel so amazing.

The hair on his chest chafes my soft skin. I buck against him, needing more stimulation.

“Easy, little dove. I’ll give you anything you need.”

He pushes up to an elbow and sets his large hand against my neck. He squeezes lightly, in time to the surge of his hips. It should feel like a threat. Instead, it feels good, like instead of collaring me, he’s set me free.

My pussy clenches, squeezing his dick, and he groans. His head falls back, his hair falling around his face. It’s somehow shoulder length now. He looks like a Viking warrior.

“I’m close,” he grits out. I dig my nails into his back, wanting to mark him. His eyes flash with a bright, inhuman light. “Come with me.” He grips my throat harder, punctuating the order. At the same time, he slams into me, sending me soaring. The slap of his body against mine stimulates my clit. Stars burst behind my eyes.

He growls as he comes. His dick pulses deep within me, filling the condom with his cum.

“Paloma,” he groans, and I shut my eyes, overwhelmed by the reverence in his voice.

He pulls out of me, rising above me in all his tanned and sexy glory. My legs fall open, showing him my freshly fucked pussy. His huge sheathed cock is still hard, shining with my juices, and damn if I don’t want him to grip my hair and guide it into my mouth. Forcing me to taste our combined essence.

“Now you belong to me,” he rumbles. “Say it.”

“I belong to you.” I know it’s part of the fantasy, that it’s not real, but I feel a connection sizzle between us as I say the words.

The Viking plundered me. And I want more.